


Red

by ami_ven



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: 100_tales, F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:42:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was not having a bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "100_tales" prompt #013 "red"

Sam was not having a bad day.

Nothing had gone disastrously wrong. No catastrophes had occurred. All of the off-world teams had returned or reported back without incident, and there hadn't been a single alien attack against the base.

What there had been was reams and reams of paperwork.

Surely, Sam thought, General Hammond had never had this much paperwork when he ran the SGC. Of course, they'd invented a few more forms since then, like requisitions for zat guns, transfers of personnel to spaceship crews and requests to take leave off-world.

Still, there were upsides, too, and she childishly took a moment to admire her signature: General Samantha O'Neill.

She wasn't sure which pleased her more, her new rank or her new surname, and she decided she didn't care.

There was a knock on her office door, and Sam sighed. If this was one more stack of things for her to sign, somebody was going to get demoted.

"Come in!" she called, already reaching for another set of forms.

"Hey, Carter."

She looked up sharply to find Jack leaning in her doorway, holding a vase of red roses.

Sam blinked. "Roses, Jack?"

He set the vase on an unoccupied corner of her desk. "It's three AM, Carter. Happy Valentine's day."

"But..." she began. She wasn't sure if it was the mind-numbing amount of paperwork that was slowing down her thought process, or the way Jack's fingers started rubbing at the sore muscles of her neck. "We have dinner reservations. For... tonight, technically."

"Moved 'em to next week," he said in her ear.

"These will only take—" Sam tried again.

"I know exactly how long they take," interrupted Jack. "You probably could finish by dinner, but do you really want to get dressed up for a fancy restaurant after that?"

She wouldn't, and he knew it. Sam sighed, feeling her muscles relax almost against her will under his continued ministrations. "How did you deal with all this?"

"Easy," he replied. "You were the leader of SG-1, and you wrote almost all the science reports, so I just signed off on whatever you put."

"Cheater," she said, but without heat. "And I thought we agreed you wouldn't send me flowers at work."

Jack grinned and moved to lean against the edge of her desk. "I didn't send them. I brought them."

"Cheater," she said again.

He smiled and kissed her.

THE END


End file.
